One night, after a romantic meal, I was walking home
with my girlfriend, and I decided it would be the
right time to propose to her.
So I turned to her, looked her in the eye and
got down on one knee. But, as I was grabbing
the ring, the old local drunk named Joseph came
by. He’d injured his eye and was wearing a cotton
patch to cover it. No one knew where he’d once
lived and he never told. But, he stumbled over,
grabbed my girlfriend and kissed her. She was
shocked but also seemingly enjoyed it. She left
with him and I never found out where they went.
It’s been almost 6 years and I still think about it.
So, If it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I’d be married a long time ago
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?